


turnabout is foreplay

by cedarwoods



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Light Bondage, Strap-Ons, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-10 01:56:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17416793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cedarwoods/pseuds/cedarwoods
Summary: On the anniversary of the day they met, Root and Shaw return to Suffolk Hotel. And then they bang.





	1. fire

It began like this:

Shaw had spent the day chasing an irritatingly fast perp, weaving in and out of alleys in Hell’s Kitchen. After finally tackling the motherfucker and ensuring he was taken into custody, she returned home with the intention of kicking back on the couch with a beer or three.

Instead, she found Root lying there, staring blankly at the ceiling. Shaw waved a hand in front of her. No response.

“I can see you breathing, you know,” Shaw said.

Root blinked once, mournfully, with a dramatic sigh. Still, however, she remained uncharacteristically silent.

Shaw frowned. “Siri? I think your analog interface is broken.”

 _“She had a sudden epiphany and has been moping ever since. You’re the only one who can pull her back from the brink of an existential crisis,”_ the Machine explained.

“Hm.” Shaw eased Root up gently and sat down on the sofa with Root’s head now on her lap. She placed her beer cap on Root’s forehead, took a swig, and waited.

Several minutes trickled by before Root finally swept aside the cap with a huff and clutched Shaw’s wrist. “Sameen, remember the day we met?”

“Vividly. You tased me, ziptied me, and tried to torture me with an iron.”

“Foreplay,” Root dismissed. “But I just realized I had the opportunity to say, ‘It looks like we have some kinks to iron out’ and _didn’t_.” With a groan, she flipped over onto her belly, face-planting into Shaw’s jeans in shame.  

“ _That’s_ what was bothering you?” Shaw sputtered.

Root gave a muffled harrumph.

“I mean? We could just act that out again if it makes you feel better.”

Shaw immediately regretted her words when Root turned to look at her with that familiar, mischievous glint in her eyes. She kissed Shaw hard, leapt up, and scampered into the bedroom, gleefully shouting, “No takebacks!”

And that was how, one week later, on the 6th anniversary of the day they’d met, Shaw found herself back in room 1458 of the Suffolk Hotel in Manhattan.

*

It looked exactly the same, right down to the purple orchids on the coffee table. Presently, however, it was adorned with massage candles glowing ethereally in the darkened room. The room smelled of vanilla, but from the way Root and Shaw had been making out for the past half hour, the evening promised to be anything but.

Shaw’s hand wandered up Root’s leg, under her skirt. Before she could get much further, Root smacked her hand away, hissing, “My turn first.” She tugged down the zipper of Shaw’s hoodie and made quick work of stripping it and her tank-top off her and tossing them aside.

Root was palming Shaw’s breasts under her sports bra, but withdrew her hand in surprise as Shaw roughly tore open her blouse, sending buttons skittering. Shaw burrowed her head against Root’s chest and pinched at a nipple through the lacy black fabric. Feeling it hardening, she impatiently unhooked the bra. Eye-level with Root’s exposed breasts, she stared at them hungrily.

“See something you like?”

“Shut up.”

Root tangled her hands in Shaw’s hair as Shaw peppered her breasts with kisses. Soon, the kisses deepened and gave way to suckles and bites. For a while, it seemed as though Root would be content to let Shaw take charge; she threw her head back, her mouth agape in silent ecstasy. But she suddenly ripped Shaw’s bra off, letting their skin touch for an electrifying moment, before prying Shaw’s hands off her ribs and pinning them decisively to the arms of the chair.

“Didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you?” Root breathed sultrily. She conjured thick zip ties out of nowhere and bound Shaw’s wrists. She glanced at her, a question on her face, and Shaw nodded. The zip ties weren’t loose enough that Shaw could easily slip out of them, but they also weren’t tight enough to be uncomfortable.

Root stepped out of her skirt and knelt between Shaw’s legs. “We’re going to have so much fun together, Sameen.”

Shaw didn’t doubt it. Nevertheless, she retorted, “We won’t if you keep talking. Better uses for your mouth than that.”

Root’s hands trailed from Shaw’s knees to her thighs; she looped her fingers in her belt loops. “Patience,” she whispered. Ever so slowly, she unbuttoned Shaw’s jeans and inched them off her legs, dragging her underwear with them.

Shaw bit back a frustrated growl. When Root ordered her to be patient, she meant it. One peep and Root would extend the foreplay considerably.

Root stroked Shaw’s bare legs, marveling at the expanse of smooth skin. Then, she stood and retrieved the iron from the counter adjacent to the TV.

Shaw closed her eyes, soaking in the heat radiating from it.

“Well Sameen,” Root purred, “it looks like we have some kinks to iron out.” She bit her lip, but her whole face still glowed with mirth at her own pun.

“You know I enjoy this sort of thing.”

Root beamed. “I do too. But I really don’t want to hurt you.” She pulled the iron away from Shaw’s face and instead kissed her jaw and neck.

“What really changed your mind?”

“Your face and attached physique are too beautiful to be stamped with iron-shaped burns. So…” Root set the iron on the side table next to them and picked up a candle.

“Candle wax, huh?” Shaw liked where this was going.

“Candles are powerful aphrodisiacs, Sameen,” Root crooned. She blew out the flame and allowed a few droplets of wax - more of a heavenly massage oil – to fall onto her forearm. Satisfied with the temperature, she sidled back onto Shaw’s lap, and poured the oil gently. It trickled down Shaw’s neck and pooled on her shoulders, leaving a pleasant burning sensation in its wake. Root dipped her finger into it and spread it along each shoulder blade. Shaw leaned into the caress.

Root paused. “I almost forgot. Safe word?”

“Eh, I’d just say stop,” Shaw said. She shimmied slightly. “But right now–”

“All in good time, sweetie.”

Root pulled Shaw into a long kiss. She wrapped her arms around Shaw’s neck and rubbed; Shaw moaned involuntarily at the impromptu massage. She was sure Root would turn her into a pampered but ruined puddle by the end of this.

More oil spilled onto Shaw’s breasts, and she breathed in sharply. Root kneaded at one, while her tongue flicked at the nipple of the other.

Shaw squirmed in her seat again, trying futilely to extricate her hands so she could shove Root lower, lower to where she really needed her –

Root chose that moment to grind against Shaw’s thighs, and even through the lacy underwear, Shaw could feel the dampness from Root’s pelvis. As she rocked against Shaw, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin crescendoed salaciously. Eager to pick up the pace, Root unexpectedly slid off Shaw’s lap and buried her face between her legs.

Shaw shuddered at the feel of Root’s hot breath against her core. With Root’s gentle urging, she draped her legs over Root’s shoulders, and the latter stroked the sensitive area behind Shaw’s knees before going all in.

Root kissed Shaw’s clit for a brief second, seemingly just to draw a gasp out of her. She used her fingers to spread Shaw open, and her tongue darted between Shaw’s folds.

This time, it was Shaw who tipped her head back. “ _Fuck_ ,” she exhaled reluctantly.

Root hummed in response, and Shaw shivered at the vibration against her pubic bone. Root licked the length of her labia, and then idly flicked her tongue at Shaw’s clit again.

“Root,” Shaw groaned.

Root glanced up at her, with her hair entrancingly mussed and amusement dancing in her candlelit eyes. “Yes Sameen?” she asked pleasantly, though her voice was huskier than usual.

“I want you to get inside me now.”

Root quirked an eyebrow.

“Please,” Shaw added.

Root cocked her head and tapped her wet chin in mock thought. Shaw stared at her finger, willing Root to thrust it into her. She wouldn’t, of course, as she’d smeared her hands in candle wax. But Root was driving her nuts, as per usual, and if she didn’t come in the next few minutes –

“Okay. Since you asked so nicely,” Root said softly.

And then Root was lapping at her again, more insistently than before. Her tongue plunged into the depths of Shaw’s folds, brushing against Shaw’s known weak spots. Shaw’s hips undulated and her heels drummed against Root’s back, demanding _more_ _Root, goddamnit!_ while she muttered a string of expletives.

Root took Shaw’s clit back into her mouth and sucked headily until Shaw could no longer take it. She came hard with a strangled cry, but Root held Shaw’s legs in a vicelike grip to keep her in place as she prolonged Shaw’s orgasm.

Root pulled away at last, her chest heaving as much as Shaw’s. She dropped her head onto Shaw’s thigh and chuckled.

“Get back up here,” Shaw said once she’d caught her breath, and Root acquiesced, still smiling as she lazily kissed Shaw.

“I got you,” Root said, pecking at Shaw’s nose.

“Yeah, you got me.”

Root furrowed her eyebrows in puzzlement at how quickly Shaw had agreed. That was when Shaw made her move. Abruptly freeing herself, she stood, smirking at Root’s astonished yelp.  

“And now,” Shaw said as she dumped Root onto the bed, “it’s my turn.”


	2. ice

“Well, this feels familiar, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Root admitted. “But I should warn you that I’ve gotten a lot stronger since your self-defense lessons.”

Shaw stared down at Root with a beguiling demi-smile as the latter struggled in vain to flip them over. “Would you rather be writhing under me like this, or in more gratifying circumstances? The choice is yours.”

Making a brief moue, Root finally submitted. Shaw’s smile widened, and she proceeded to tie Root’s wrists to the headboard with silk ribbon.

“You’re going soft, sweetie,” Root said.

“You don’t like being bound.”

“I never said that.”

“You never had to.” Shaw checked her handiwork, ensuring the restraints were tight enough. “You’ve been bound and/or locked up against your will often enough that you have strong negative associations with it.”

Root opened her mouth to speak. No words came to her, and she closed it again.

Cupping Root’s cheek, Shaw kissed her. “Trust me,” she whispered.

Root nodded minutely. “Okay.”

Shaw held up a blindfold and gauged Root’s reaction. She hesitated and then nodded again.

“Just let me know if it’s ever uncomfortable,” Shaw said as she wrapped it around Root’s eyes. “Safe words?”  

“Exploding Kittens means ‘keep going’ and Jenga means ‘stop.’” She smirked.

Shaw decided it was better not to ask. She slipped off Root and padded away.

“Wait, where are you going?” Root called. “If you leave me high and dry here, I swear to the Machine –”

“Patience,” Shaw said, cheekily throwing Root’s order back at her. “I’ll be back in a minute. Just need to get a few things.”

Root perked up at that, her interest piqued, but the ribbons tugged her wrists, and she lay back down with a huff.

Shaw, meanwhile, blew out the candles by the bedside table and replaced them with a basin and a tray.

“What are those?” Root asked.

Shaw didn’t answer. She climbed back onto Root and kissed her lightly. It wasn’t enough for Root, who kissed Shaw back greedily, longingly. Shaw could still taste herself on Root’s lips and groaned. Encouraged, Root opened her mouth wider, brushed her tongue against Shaw’s and –

She let out a muffled cry as an ice cube slipped into her mouth.

Shaw bit Root’s lip. “Hold onto that for me.”

She plucked another ice cube out of the tray and clutched it, willing her body heat to warm it up to a slightly more bearable temperature. Her free hand under Root’s back, Shaw busied herself with pressing open-mouthed kisses along Root’s chest. She took one of Root’s small breasts into her mouth and laved it with attention for what felt like several long minutes, until Root whined at her to move on.

With a _plop_ , she obligingly let go of the oversaturated nipple. However, as she turned to Root’s other, thus far neglected breast, she traced circles around the first with the ice cube. She got her desired result immediately: a frisson coursed through Root’s body, and she gasped, her nerve receptors overwhelmed by the simultaneous feelings of warmth and frigidity.

Shaw offered her no respite. She gave Root’s other nipple the same icy treatment, and when done teasing it, she reached for a new ice cube. Languorously, Shaw continued to make her excursion downward. Root’s legs cloaked Shaw’s back and pressed their bodies closer; an indication not only of Root’s lust, but also of her need for more heat.

That suited Shaw just fine. The ice would contrast starkly with the heat from their chafing bodies, serving only to heighten the sensations Root would feel. In confirmation, Root moaned wantonly as the ice cube trailed along the path that Shaw had just traced with her kisses.

Root was, at this point, probably expecting Shaw to caress her navel – admittedly one of Shaw’s favourite parts of Root’s body. Instead, Shaw propped Root up and dragged the ice down her spine. Root arched her back and shuddered in Shaw’s arms. “ _S- Sameen!”_

Equipped with another ice cube, Shaw returned to her position on the lower half of Root’s body, stroking her with it. The ice left behind goosebumps on Root’s belly, tickled her inner thighs, while Shaw’s hot breath washed over Root’s sex.

Shaw dipped one cold finger into Root’s folds. “Oops,” she said nonchalantly.

“You punishing me for all the teasing?”

“Well, you said it yourself once: turnabout is foreplay.”

“ _Sameen_ ,” Root whined again.

“Something you need?”

Silence for a moment, punctuated by Root’s panting.

“I need you.”

“I know you do.” Still, Shaw idly drew tiny circles around Root’s clit but did nothing more.

“And I know you need me too,” Root continued. “You want to feel me clamping around your fingers. You want to taste me when I come. You want to – _oh_ –”  

She was cut off with a sharp gasp. Shaw could feel wave after wave of Root’s pleasure inundating her body, causing her to tremble as Shaw’s tongue flitted between Root’s folds. She pressed her lips against her clit and pushed two fingers in, relishing in the way Root’s moans coincided with each thrust.

Without warning, Shaw pulled away from Root altogether and stood.

“Shaw, what the _fuck_ are you doing?” Root growled.

Shaw wordlessly removed Root’s blindfold, revealing her utter rage and confusion.

“I got us a new toy to play with,” Shaw said, “and I thought I’d ask for your approval first.”

It was worth taking off the blindfold just to see Root’s eyes darkening at the sight of the dildo strapped to Shaw’s harness.

“Is that…? What’s that made out of?”

“Glass. It’s fully annealed, I made sure of it. Stress-free and safe.”

“Oh really? Can it withstand _our_ levels of intensity?”

Shaw smiled wryly. “Trust me.”

“Fuck me,” Root countered.

Shaw met Root’s challenging gaze as she liberally applied lube to the dildo. “Gladly.”

It slid in easily. Shaw was pleased at how slick and ready Root was. But the first frigid touch of it instantly had Root reeling; the headboard shook as she did. “God, fuck,” she breathed. She dug her heel into Shaw’s ass, urging her on, and thrust her pelvis forward while Shaw rocked against her.

Shaw, whose head was nestled in the crook of Root’s neck, glanced at her. Root was staring at the ceiling dazedly, but her eyes kept fluttering shut. She tugged desperately at her restraints until they came undone. She gripped Shaw’s back with one hand and rubbed at Shaw’s scalp with the other.

“You’re so tight and wet for me,” Shaw muttered into her ear.

Root moaned with lascivious abandon. Most of what she was trying to say was incoherent, but Shaw did hear her say “Exploding Kittens” clearly. Used in this context, Shaw finally understood what Root meant and chortled. She caught Root’s lips in a sloppy kiss, though Root was too far gone to return it with her usual vigour.

As Root wished, Shaw upped her rhythm, and what happened next was a blur of activity; a tangle of limbs, Root and Shaw’s bodies moved frantically against each other. Root hit her climax with her head thrown back and Shaw’s name on her lips.

Root collapsed onto the bed, completely wrecked. Shaw had evidently succeeded in fucking her into jelly. She whimpered when Shaw pulled out of her.

Shaw took off the harness and carefully set the dildo back in the basin. Then, spent, she lay down next to Root as both tried to catch their breath.

“That…that was…” Root panted. “That was…explosive.”

Shaw laughed. “That was a special-occasions-only dildo.”

Root put her hand on Shaw’s chest. “Well then, I guess we’ll have to come up with a bunch of _special occasions_.”

“I guess we will.”

In their post-coital embrace, surrounded by the smell of sex, Shaw’s words sounded like a promise.  

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Shoot fans and I gleefully came up with board/card game safe word alignment charts. Exploding Kittens is sexy green, and Jenga is sexy red.


End file.
